There's a murder there sitting atop your anger and disbelief

It beat me all to hell, to death

I was stuck with its viral trauma after my unstable resurrection

My love for you finally died after so long being undead

I found my Elysium between zombie and ghost; a purgatorial bed I had to lie in no matter how hard I struggled

That gorgeous grief I allowed myself to feel, taught me the art of mourning myself

I knew this evolution would be hard; it diced me so fine like tomatoes

And after all this I can still look at fate in the mirror, despite the shadow lurking in the window.